


Acronym

by DwarvenBeardSpores



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (canon typical), Cel puts their foot in their mouth, Confusion, Crying, Episode 131: Building Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Team Dynamics, Vomiting, figuratively not literally, set nebulously around, this is not stellar firma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23037319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarvenBeardSpores/pseuds/DwarvenBeardSpores
Summary: “Lo-lo-mu-gu?” they sound out. They squint at the paper, turn it around, say he word again. Nope. Not familiar. “Hey!” they call to the room at large. “Anyone know what this means? Lolomugu?”Hamid slides off of Azu’s lap and comes over to take a look. “I’m not sure that’s—Oh! Oh, that’s us. Our group.” He sounds the word off, pronouncing the letters individually the way they’d be said in English. “L-O-L-O-M-G.”
Relationships: Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom & Zolf Smith & Azu & Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	Acronym

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway I thought too hard about Bryn’s humorous group name and made myself sad. It’s the RQG experience babey!! Enjoy! 
> 
> Uhhh Cel’s not great at reading the room and upsets people and it’s fine but if that’s not your jam, fair warning. 
> 
> I meant to write some fluff tonight but I ended up finishing this instead. Normally I'd sit on it a little longer before posting, but hey I could use a win today.

They’re waiting for Wilde to get back, and Cel isn't really _great_ at waiting. Zolf is sitting in the corner staring vacantly at his hands, and Hamid’s curled up on Azu’s lap murmuring things to her, and it not that this isn’t engaging enough for Cel but it _really_ isn’t engaging enough. Nobody stops them when they start shuffling through the papers on Wilde’s desk, though, so that’s something. 

There are maps and charts and notes in handwriting that’s even worse than Cel’s—well, maybe not _worse_ but illegible in a different way?—and lists of supplies and resources that are _way_ more organized than the ones Cel writes up, and some contracts. And Cel doesn’t really care about contracts but if Wilde is going to come in and start _talking_ contracts, Cel might as well read them now so it becomes less important that they’re paying attention during the actual conversation, and also these are interesting because Cel doesn’t recognize the name at the top. 

“Lo-lo-mu-gu?” they sound out. They squint at the paper, turn it around, say he word again. Nope. Not familiar. “Hey!” they call to the room at large. “Anyone know what this means? Lolomugu?” 

Hamid slides off of Azu’s lap and comes over to take a look. “I’m not sure that’s—Oh! Oh, that’s us. Our group.” He sounds the word off, pronouncing the letters individually the way they’d be said in English. “L-O-L-O-M-G.” 

Zolf huffs something that might be a laugh, or a scoff. It’s kinda hard to tell with him. Hamid glances over almost guiltily. Huh. 

“A’right,” Cel says. “So—" 

“Your group too,” Hamid offers. “If- if you want, that is.” 

“Oh. Oh! Ah, yeah. That— Really?” Cel isn’t sure how to answer. “I mean, I haven’t been part of a ‘group’ in a _real_ long time, and to be honest I kind of thought this was like a one-time consultation gig. Which isn’t to say I don’t want it! I mean, I’d love to be in a group with all my cool new friends but I also don’t _exactly_ know what that entails? Like, do I have to move? Do I have to hand over my intellectual property rights for inventing things, because— also what does that _mean,_ LOLOMG? Is that English? It doesn’t sound English.” 

“It’s an acronym,” Hamid says. 

“Acronym.” It’s on the tip of their… brain, or something. _Acronym._ Cel sways forwards and backwards on their toes. “That’s— what’s that? That’s when something’s in its wrong time, right?” 

Azu sucks in a breath so suddenly that Cel looks over. She’s got a hand over her mouth. 

“No,” Hamid says weakly. Cel has clearly tread on something and they have no idea what. “That’s an _anachronism._ ” 

“Anachro _nism_! Yes, I remember now, because—” 

“This is an acro _nym_ ,” he says. “It’s—the letters stand for all the words in our name.” 

“Oh. Oh right! So it’s…” Hamid. Azu. Zolf. “There _is_ an L and an O in your name,” they say, pointing at Zolf. “But just one. Unless it’s in your last name, I don’t know that. Then… you guys I hate to break it to you but if this is for your names, you might just be _really_ bad at spelling.” 

“It’s not our personal names,” Hamid says. “It’s our group. The, er, the London and Other London Outstanding Mercenary Group. LOLOMG.” 

“ _Ohhhhhhh_.” Cel nods. “London and Other London.... Okay, I get it. Now I have no idea how I was supposed to guess that but—” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be a—a puzzle or anything,” Hamid says. “Just a way to say it more easily.” He glances back at Azu and gives her a nod that, again, Cel does not understand. Those two have a lot of secret communications and stuff. 

“It’s not the worst we’ve had,” Zolf pipes up. He turns to Hamid. “How _did_ you get that name? Wilde said you started with it right after I left.” 

Cel squints. Zolf was a new-returning member, they’d got that. From before the name. Okay. 

“Yes, um, it was my idea? I-I mean we kept saying we were working on a name, and then I came up with one. And Sa—and everyone agreed.” 

“Right,” Zolf said. 

_Everyone._ So that meant Hamid, Azu, whoever it was they kept talking about, Sasha or whoever? And somebody else—Grizzok maybe? 

“What was it before?” Azu asked. 

Wait. Wait wait wait so Azu _hadn’t_ been there when-- 

Zolf gives a noise that is _definitely_ both a laugh and a scoff. “The London Rangers: We’re Still Working On a Name.” 

“What?” says Azu. 

“That was it,” Hamid says. “That was the full name. They put it in the papers.” 

Azu laughs, deep and delighted. “I can see why you wanted to change it.” 

“I don’t know,” Cel says. “I kinda like it. I mean, I like what it’s saying about the _process,_ y’know? Not locking yourselves down to any one thing cause there’s always something better.” 

“Grizzop would have hated it,” Azu says to Hamid, as though she wasn’t listening. Which honestly? Fair. 

Hamid gives her a watery smile. “Yeah.” 

Zolf looks at Cel and shrugs. 

Cel is beginning to think they need a conspiracy board to make sense of who was in what group at one time. It’s probably not actually that hard but Hamid and Azu get weepy when they talk about it so Cel doesn’t want to ask directly, and anyway it’s kind of like one of those logic puzzles where you just have to think about the clues in the right way and then you’ve got an answer without anyone telling you anything useful, and maybe Cel just needs some scratch paper, so they flip over one of the forms on Wilde’s desk but then they catch the name again. 

“Hang on,” Cel says. “What’s Other London?” 

“It’s the city below London,” Zolf says. 

“Below?” 

“Underground,” Zolf says. “They built another city on top of it, and that’s the rich one.” 

“Wait wait wait. You’re saying there’s _two cities_ that are _stacked_ like, like on platforms? Or is it all like dug out in a cave? Or—I heard there’s a floating one somewhere around there, right? I didn’t think it was London but I could be wrong! Geography of places I haven’t been is _not_ one of my areas of expertise. What is the _infrastructure_ like?” 

“Its… dark,” Zolf says, after a moment. 

“All right, and--?” 

Zolf sighs. “To be honest, we had more important things to worry about.” 

“Okay, but one of you is from there, right?” 

More silence. 

“Sasha was,” Zolf says. 

“Oh,” Cel says. “Oh, fuck. She’s one of the one’s that you don’t like to— Fuck! So the rest of you are from London?” 

“Not really.” Zolf sighs. “I was only there a month or so. It’s where I got my start as a mercenary, though.” 

“I… It was a few months, for me.” Hamid puts in. He has backed away when Cel wasn’t looking and is holding Azu’s hand again. “A-after leaving school I lived there a while. I’m from Cairo.” 

“I’ve never been to London,” Azu says. 

“What?” says Cel. “I mean, neither have I, and I probably never will, but—” 

“Wilde’s from London, I think?” Hamid says. “He’s not really part of the _mercenary group_ though…” 

“Okay,” Cel says. “Okay, look, I know there’s all kinds of sensitive things going around here and I’m really not sure what they are so I’m sorry in advance, but I am like, _so_ confused here. You’ve got a name that Hamid came up with and _some other people_ agreed to, that’s got places in the title that none of you really know?” 

“I... I suppose so,” Hamid says in a small voice. 

“And like, I get that names have staying power, I mean, pedal-a-tron is still a _great_ name even without the pedals, but _that_ is a private, one-time use invention and _this_ is a name that goes on, like, paperwork and newspapers or whatever? And the world is already _so…_ ah, what’s the word, up London’s ass. London- ist . Whatever. So I’m just _wondering_ if maybe--” 

They are interrupted by Azu’s yelp of surprise as Hamid leans forward and throws up on the floor. 

Cel also exclaims, and Zolf makes a noise that sounds like resignation. 

Hamid gags for a few moments, and Azu makes soothing noises and rubs his tiny back with her large hand. Hamid’s vomit smokes a little bit, like there’s something in it smoldering, but before Cel can investigate that further Hamid gives a flourish of his wrist and magics the mess away. 

“Now that,” Cel says, “is really useful. Cleaning up when you are _already_ feeling like shit is awful, and—” 

“Sorry,” Hamid murmurs, allowing Azu to lift him onto her lap. “I just—” He sniffs. He’s maybe also crying, but Cel can’t see. Azu pets his head softly and tells him it’s alright. Then she turns to Cel. 

“We’re not changing it,” she says, in a voice that cannot be argued with. 

Cel closes their mouth and does not say anything about workshopping. “Right,” they say. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean--” 

“Cel,” Zolf says. “Leave it.” 

Cel glances between him, very serious, and the other two, who are clinging to each other. 

“Right. Should I... go? I’ll go.” 

“I’ll come too,” Zolf says, and maybe it’s to smooth things over, or explain stuff, or just give Hamid and Azu some space, but either way that’s probably a good idea so-- 

“No,” Hamid says. “No, I’m-- it’s fine.” He scrubs at his eyes and almost definitely casts more magic because he does _not_ look like someone who’s been crying. 

“You were right the first time, Cel,” Azu says. Her voice is heavy with feelings. “The name is an anachronism. It is from a different time and might not be relevant anymore. But,” she hugs Hamid closer, “so are we.” 

“Oh,” Cel says. 

Hamid sniffs loudly. 

“Those weren’t bad questions,” Zolf says, trying to deflect some of the atmosphere onto himself probably. “It’s smart not to sign onto a group you don’t understand. To find out first if that group shares your values. But our public image means less than it used to. And to be honest, given the state of things, I don’t know you’re gonna get a better offer.” 

“No, no,” Cel says. Hamid starts crying again. Their throat squeezes in a weird way when they try to get the words out. They are _not_ very good with people. “I mean, you guys are great. If you’ll still have me after I kind of just made Hamid barf, which, I mean, _might_ not have been me. It sure seems like it was but there really hasn’t been a _great_ time to learn what all the cry and vomit buttons are, and the rule of Alchemy is, of course, that the more complicated answer is probably the right one, so --” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Zolf says. “We need good people, and you’re good people.” 

“It does matter,” Azu breaks in. “It does not change that we would like to work with you. But we should prevent this line of questioning from coming up again.” 

“Yeah,” Cel says. “I mean, I’d definitely like to not keep making people cry. Sorry Hamid. Sorry Azu.” They rock back and forth on their heels. “Hugs? I mean, you’ve got the hugs pretty well covered but--” 

“Yes please,” Azu says. She opens an arm and lets Cel wrap themselves around her. And Hamid. Double hug. Cel’s not very good with people but they are pretty good at hugs. 

“We’ll-- we’ll tell you later,” Hamid says, real quiet next to their ear. “It’s a long story.” 

Cel nods, and completely strikes group name innovations from their mind. Not another word about any of that, not even a hybrid like “LOLOMG: We’re Working On A Name Again.” Six letters does have the advantage that you can write it on stuff pretty easily. Maybe they could print it on some fabric, and then like, make clothes out of it, so everybody could match. Maybe that’d make up for this fuckup. 

Azu’s arms are very strong and the hug is very long, which Cel doesn’t mind at all. It seems to help anyway. 

“Oh,” says Wilde, suddenly behind them. “I see I’ve missed _something.”_

Zolf laughs, and Cel extracts themself from Azu’s arms, and Hamid doesn’t, and there’s a meeting, and Cel signs something to officially be part of LOLOMG, at least on a trial basis. And they do feel kind of weird about it because Azu is still grim and Hamid is still teary, but both nod encouragingly so Cel will take it. They've got a team now, and that’s great, and they don’t need to know everything. Right now anyway. Someday. Like, knowing everything is definitely a, what’s it called, an extension goal. 

But with this, they can totally wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I’d love to know what you thought! 
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr as dwarven-beard-spores, twitter as @beardspores, and dreamwidth as dwarvenbeardspores.


End file.
